


Day 31: Ghost

by WatermelonTuesdays



Series: Sheith Monster Fuckers 2019 [23]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Bottom Shiro (Voltron), First Time, Ghost Keith (Voltron), Halloween, Incubus Shiro (Voltron), Keith is an 80s boy and it has almost zero relevancy, M/M, Sex Worker Shiro, Switching, Temperature Play, Top Keith (Voltron), Top Shiro (Voltron), Unfinished Business, Virgin Keith (Voltron), hints of past Keith/Romelle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 02:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21263573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatermelonTuesdays/pseuds/WatermelonTuesdays
Summary: Keith is a ghost and he's got one night lease in a human body, so what does he do? Call up a sex worker and have his world rocked by a handsome incubus.





	Day 31: Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> I literally finished this 5 minutes ago so this is completely unedited and un-proof-read so like.... sorry!

There’s one night a year where miracles come true for someone like Keith. One night a year where he gets a second chance at life. Literally.

One night where the veil between living and dead draws so thin that, with enough will power, Keith can step back into the world of the living. One night where he can reclaim a semblance of his own body. One night to try and fulfill all his dreams. 

He’s practiced for the last 3 years in a row, so this year it should come more naturally, and his control of his body should be more complete. 

The minute the sun sets over his grave, Keith pushes through with all his might. Sure, it might be easier to do this closer to midnight, but Keith needs all the time he can get. Re-corporealizing does not come easy, and legs are surprisingly hard to get the hang of after 364 days in the spirit world.

He walks a few laps of the cemetery, using the stones to support himself, until he moves easier on his shaky legs. Then he straights his back, takes a deep breath, and throws himself past the cemetery gate.

Leaving his resting place is almost as difficult as re-entering the living world, and he has to take a minute to catch his breath. Then it’s just a short jog down the street to the nearest pay phone.

Only…

Apparently, pay phones don’t exist anymore?

Keith scratches his head as he scans the little corner store. It’s the exact same as the one he remembers, but the little sheltered booth with the shiny metal phone is nowhere to be seen. Maybe they moved them inside?

There’s no luck inside, either. But the greasy gentleman behind the counter graciously allows Keith the use of the store phone.

“80’s costume party?” he asks, eyeing Keith’s styled hair and thick shoulder pads. Hey, Keith looked good when he died.

“Sure,” Keith agrees, taking the phone and inspecting it. There’s no cord to it, but it is, unmistakably a phone. He steps away from the counter, unsure how far he can go without a cord. He doesn’t risk it.

Lucky Keith doesn’t need to use the phone book, because he seriously doubts that this guy has one. He got the number from a reasonably trustworthy spirit from the other side and has memorized the number like a religious mantra over the last 3 years.

The line picks up on the 3rd ring: a good sign.

“Shiro,” a smooth voice answers. 

The sound of the voice in Keith’s ear throws him off. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but this is already more than anything he could have dreamed up.

“Hey. Hi. Uhh… This is Shiro?” Fuck, he’s stuttering like the 19-year-old he was when he died – well over 30 years ago.

The voice chuckles, like Keith’s being amusing, not stupid. “This is. How can I help you?”

“I got your number from, uhh, Matt? On the, uh…” Keith shoots a nervous look at the guy behind the counter, who looks like he’s trying not to be interested in this call. “The ‘other side,’” he says pointedly. “I was hoping I could, maybe, see you? Tonight? You know… while I’m ‘in town?’”

Shiro laughs again, and this time it’s much heartier. It makes bubbles dance in Keith’s stomach.

“How young are you, sweetheart?” 

“52,” Keith answers quickly. Technically, if you count the years he’s been dead, he’s 52. 

Shiro’s laugh is kind, the counter-guy’s snort is mean. He’s clearly listening in now, and aside from that snorting laugh, he’s looking less amused and more concerned.

“How old were you when you died?”

Keith feels immediately defeated. “19. But I can be good for you, I promise. And I can make it worth your while.” He’s not quite at pleading, yet; but he’s not above it, if it comes to that.

“I don’t know, sunshine. You know, it’s Samhain. There’s going to be lots of business tonight.”

“Please…” Keith says, tilting his voice low to hide his plea, “I can pay.” The man behind the counter gives him a sharp look at that and Keith knows he’s got to make it quick. “And it’s still early in the night.   
And… it’s…” Keith wraps his hand around the receiver and whispers into the mouthpiece, “my unfinished business.”

Shiro doesn’t laugh at that, which is both a curse and a blessing because he goes silent instead. Keith holds his breath as he waits.

“Ok. Where are you?”

Keith has to get the man at the counter to give him the address, and he recites is back to Shiro happily, then hands back the phone.

“Do your parents know what you’re up to?” the man asks with a cocked eyebrow as he takes the phone back.

Keith shrugs. “My parents are dead,” he says easily and walks out.

He stands in the growing darkness and does some quick exercises to help his coordination. He jumps in place, stretches his body this way and that, and balances along the painted lines of the parking lot.

He tells himself it’s completely normal to stretch out his pelvis before meeting with an incubus. It’s almost convincing.

After about 20 minutes, a motorcycle stops at the corner store. A leather-clad god has his meaty thighs wrapped around the machine, and Keith audibly gulps when the man’s eyes scan the lot and fall on Keith. In that moment, Keith feels all of 19: scrawny and awkward. The man smiles and nods his head.

“You called for a pickup?”

“You’re Shiro?” Keith hardly needs to ask – who else would be out here looking like sex on wheels at this time of night, trolling for punk 19-year-old ghosts?

“Yeah,” Shiro’s got the same chuckle in person, only its effect is much more potent. Keith stumbles forward, into Shiro’s space.

He riffles through the pocket of his jacket and fists the bag that holds his payment. The contents clink like a bag of marbles as he pulls it out and awkwardly pushes it out to the mega-hot man in front of him.

Shiro looks at the bag and shifts uncomfortably, looking around the parking lot like there might be someone watching.

“Not here, kiddo,” he says gently. “You can give that to me when we get back to my place. Hop on.” 

Shiro doesn’t offer Keith a helmet, but then, Keith can’t really get any deader. He throws his leg over the bike maybe a little harder than he has to, kicking at the back of Shiro’s calf. “Sorry,” Keith mumbles.

He sits back on the seat, leaving an inch or two of space between them, but then he thinks better of it. They’re about to be a lot closer than this. So, he slides along the seat until he’s tight along Shiro’s ass, his legs pressing against Shiro’s thighs. 

Shiro is warm with life, and it’s a thrill in and of itself just to be so close to someone living. Keith’s hands shake just a little as they wrap around Shiro’s waist and lock together over his stomach.

“Ready, sweetpea?”

“Ready, Freddy.” Keith presses his cheek into the leather of Shiro’s jacket, it’s soft and supple and it smells amazing. 

His whole body fills with tremors as the bike roars to life and they pull out of the parking lot. The ride into town is fast and full of curves. It’s absolutely thrilling, and Keith can’t help but lean back and let the wind blow through his hair as they drive. He forgot how _good_ it feels to ride! Though he doesn’t think he’s ever ridden a bike like this before. Shiro is something else! He takes turns at breakneck speeds, and weaves through traffic like he’s threading a needle. It’s a rush of adrenaline that Keith hasn’t felt in 30 years and he can’t help the shout of joy when they take a hill fast enough to catch a bit of air. 

It ends all too soon, in Keith’s opinion, but he doesn’t complain when they pull into the dark lot beside a steep apartment building. 

He helps Shiro cover the bike and follows him into the building, feeling a bit like a lost puppy. Shiro gives him an understanding smile as they ride the elevator up to the top floor and reminds him to breathe. 

Shiro’s apartment is dark when they get there, and messy once the lights are turned on. It seems big enough, by Keith’s estimation. Nothing quite looks the same as it did 30-odd years ago, it all looks sleeker and cleaner, and there’s far more white, grey, and black in the apartment than Keith expected.

He walks into the centre of the living area and he has no idea what to do with his hands, so he shoves them into his pockets. Inside, he finds his bag of payment and he pulls it out, rolling it back and forth between his hands. It represents three years of saving with the only currency the spirit world has: soul energy. He gathered it from visitors to the cemetery and the passersby until he had what should be enough to pay Shiro for one night.

The energy feels and sounds like marbles in the bag, though they look more like crystal. The sound of their clicking as he moves them around the bag helps Keith relax, though, at the same time, he wonders if he really does have enough.

Shiro seems to notice Keith’s nervousness. He slips out of his leather jacket, revealing a tight black muscle shirt and joins Keith in the centre of the room. 

“What d’ya have there?” he asks. He reaches out to Keith, and rather than take the bag from his shaking hands, Shiro cups his hands from underneath, letting the warmth pervade Keith before lifting and scooping the bag from Keith’s grasp. 

“Your payment,” Keith says quietly. He flexes his fingers a few times, trying to work that warmth further into his skin. Death is so cold. “I tried to save you the happiest ones I could find. Matt said the sad ones taste bad?”

Shiro sets the bag aside on the nearest counter and turns back to Keith.

“Why don’t we worry about that later?”

Keith frowns. “But, don’t you care what I’m paying? How do you know if it’s good enough?”

Shiro’s hand slips into Keith’s and he pulls Keith close. “It’s good enough,” he says in a low murmur. He wraps a hand around Keith’s waist almost like they’re dancing. “Besides, this is your unfinished business, isn’t it?”

He leans forward, pressing his cheek to Keith’s in a blast of warmth that shoots right down to Keith’s toes. 

Still Keith frowns further. “It’s good stuff,” he argues. He has no intention of being someone’s pity lay. 

“I’m sure it is,” Shiro agrees amiably.

“I gathered it from a parade that goes by the cemetery each year.” Keith is nothing if not stubborn.

“Sounds delicious.”

“I- I know I can’t feed you. Not properly. So, I brought all I could. Matt said…”

Shiro hushes Keith, pressing his lips against Keith’s cheek with a soft “shhh.” 

“But…”

“It’s ok, Keith,” Shiro soothes. “You don’t have to keep convincing me.”

“But I don’t want to under pay.”

Shiro pulls back just a few inches to look at him and Keith immediately misses the warmth of their contact. Shiro’s hands reach up and slot along Keith’s cheeks and behind his ears. “You didn’t under pay,” he assures Keith, “I could feel it through the bag. It’s enough to live off for a good while. Thank you, Keith.”

Keith blushes at the grateful tone in Shiro’s voice. Just then, he wishes he had his own life energy to offer the handsome incubus. He wishes he could feed him like someone normal: someone alive. 

Before he can voice such a pointless desire, he is distracted by the warm press of lips against his own. 

Oh! So, this is kissing?

Keith might have done this once before, in his life, but he’s sure it felt nothing like this! He remembers it being dry, and then very suddenly far too wet. It was also with a girl, which really dampened things for Keith, but he was 17 and foolish.

They make a soft, smacking noise when they part, and even that sounds better than whatever noise Keith and Romelle had made. 

“How about we take this to the bedroom?”

“Yes!” Keith hardly gives Shiro time to finish the question, he grips at Shiro’s wrists like he might fall over if he doesn’t. 

Shiro leads Keith by the hand into the bedroom. He flicks on the lights and pulls a switch so they dim down to something low and romantic. 

At least it feels romantic to Keith. It probably isn’t romantic for Shiro. It’s literally his job. Also, as an incubus, this is usually how he feeds. Were Keith still alive, he would be food.

“Wish I could feed you.” He doesn’t say it very loud, but Shiro must have good hearing because he turns back around and gives Keith a tight-lipped smile. 

He steps back into Keith’s space so that Keith can feel his breath dance along his skin. Keith’s brain shuts down at the proximity and he becomes instantly more pliant under Shiro’s hands. “You’re going to feed me for months, sweetheart. Longer than anyone living ever could.” He gives Keith a quick kiss on the side of his mouth, then another on the opposite side. “Besides, tonight isn’t about me. It’s about you.” He kisses Keith square on the mouth. “Why don’t you tell me about this unfinished business of yours, hmm?”

He steps back and curls onto the bed in a smooth motion that shuts down more of Keith’s brain. He follows instinctively, crawling awkwardly to Shiro’s side. But Shiro doesn’t seem to notice Keith’s awkwardness, he welcomes Keith onto the bed with firm hands at Keith’s sides.

“I d-died a virgin,” Keith explains, his words catching in his throat as Shiro decides that moment to lay a line of slow kisses down Keith’s neck. Keith curves his neck, offering it up to Shiro. “I want to fix that.”

Shiro shifts closer, his knee beginning to press against Keith’s, which moves easily out of the way to give him more access. 

“We can fix that together,” Shiro says against Keith’s pulse. “How do you want to do it? Do you want me to do you?” Shiro’s hand slithers down Keith’s body and cups meaningfully at his ass. “Or do you want to do me?” His hand slips down lower and pulls Keith’s by the thigh over Shiro’s hip. 

The movement presses them close together and introduces a heat to Keith’s body that is entirely new to him. It knocks the breath clean out of Keith and for a moment he can’t answer the question. He can’t even really think. All he can do is fist the back of Shiro’s shirt and take a gasping breath that smells distinctly of Shiro’s hair. 

“B-both,” Keith says breathlessly. “I want to do both. Unless I didn’t pay enough?” The doubt is audible in his voice.

Shiro stops sucking on Keith’s neck and moves to pin him to the bed, forcing Keith to make eye contact with him. “You paid more than enough. Now stop worrying about the cost and have some fun with me, ok baby?”

He looks stunning in the dim light of the bedroom. The ceiling light creates a halo effect in his silver-white hair, and the shadows make his dark eyes look impossibly deep. Having such a gorgeous man above Keith like this, pressing him down with such strength and warmth – it’s incredible. It’s nearly overwhelming.

Reality is so striking at this moment, that Keith can’t speak to respond, so he simply nods. 

Shiro drops his head to lay kisses randomly along Keith’s cheeks and jawline. “Enjoy yourself, yeah? I’m all yours.”

It’s hard to believe this is all real, after so many years of longing and yearning. Not just for sex, but for anyone to hold him. So, to suddenly find himself back in a physical body with an actual sex demon atop him, smothering Keith in affection… it’s surreal.

Keith runs his hands through the short hairs at the nape of Shiro’s neck. The slight prickle against his palms helps ground him, and helps this moment feel real.

They move slow and gentle against each other. Keith lets himself be pressed into the mattress by Shiro’s strong body and turns this way and that to let Shiro kiss where he likes. He soaks in the feeling of being held, of having a body that can feel and someone he can touch. But it doesn’t take long before it’s not enough. There’s too much clothes between them and not enough heat.

Keith doesn’t know how to move things forward naturally, so he wraps his legs around Shiro and presses with his heels. He lifts his head and buries it along the edge of Shiro’s jaw, licking and nipping as he whispers, “I want more, Shiro.” He adds a “please” as an afterthought.

Shiro’s chuckle resonates through Keith’s chest and god! it feels just as good as it sounds.

Shiro shifts above Keith and grinds his hips down in a heavy press. Shiro is more than warm down there, he’s hot, and that heat sinks straight to Keith’s dick.

“What kind of more do you want, baby? What do you want me to do?”

Keith holds his breath for a moment. There are so many things he wants, and it’s so un-chill to just blurt them out like an over-eager kid, but he really just can’t help himself.

“I want you naked. I want to feel you.”

Shiro hums like that’s exactly what he was hoping for, but he doesn’t move to make it happen. Instead he seals Keith’s lips with his own and then licks until Keith lets him in. He licks into Keith’s mouth like he’s trying to steal Keith’s breath, and it just about works.

Warm hands trail Keith’s body and pluck at his clothes, working him free. He peels Keith out of each piece of clothing, one by one, taking his time. With each layer lost, Keith grows warmer, not colder. Each article tossed to the ide brings Keith one step closer to the broiling heat of Shiro’s skin. 

Once Keith is naked beneath him, Shiro lifts away, shifting onto his knees and stretching back. He pulls his shirt from his chest with a glimmer in his eye that says he knows precisely what he’s doing to Keith. 

Keith pursues. He can’t help himself. Shiro’s warmth is so enticing and the patch of hair at his chest is too tempting. Keith burrows into Shiro’s chest. He nuzzles, heating his cheeks on Shiro’s skin, and laps at the coarse hair with his tongue. 

The shirt disposed of in the ether of the room, Shiro’s hands seek Keith. They cup along the back of his head in a touch that is both comforting and encouraging. Keith braves a testing lick to Shiro’s nipple, then does it again when he gets no complaint. 

He keeps going until Shiro’s nipple beads against his lips, and then he rolls it with lips and tongue until Shiro’s chest heaves under his touch. 

“Is that good?” Keith asks, feeling awkward and inexperienced, looking up at Shiro like this. His eyes feel overly wide.

Shiro pets both hands through Keith’s hair, “Very good, sweetheart.”

Keith hums approvingly and sets to work on the other one. He summons the courage to touch Shiro more, and he traces along his sides and down his abdomen, heading for his belt buckle. His touch sparks goosebumps along Shiro’s side, he can feel their texture under his fingers. 

Keith fumbles with Shiro’s belt and he has to back away to try and get a look at what he’s doing in order to figure it out. Belts are oddly tricky when you haven’t touched or even though of one in 30 years. Shiro is no help, either. He leans back, stretching his ab muscles, and swivels his hips, messing up Keith’s attempts at stripping the gorgeous demon. 

Shiro chuckles as Keith starts to growl and glare at the belt buckle, but he makes no move to help. Finally, Keith wrenches the belt open and nearly rips the buttons off Shiro’s pants. He’s so determined and greedy for reward, Keith doesn’t stop to think before he slides his hand beneath Shiro’s pants and palms Shiro in his hand. 

Shiro is half-hard and he grows firmer under Keith’s touch. He wiggles free of his pants with surprising ease and then Keith is treated to an eyeful.

Shiro is a god.

For a moment, Keith forgets to breathe because Shiro is absolutely breathtaking in a very literal way. He’s taut with silky smooth skin, and a thick, proud cock that angles slightly to the left. Keith reaches for him again but is stopped by Shiro’s hand closing around his wrist and pushing him back down into the covers. Shiro’s large body frames Keith in the bed, and his skin slides against Keith’s. Just that alone feel overwhelming, and suddenly Keith isn’t sure he’s ready for this. 

Shiro holds Keith’s hands over his head and kisses his lips briefly, then he lays light, sporadic kisses along Keith’s body. Keith can feel himself wake up to the sensations. Each kiss draws more and more of Keith’s attention to his skin, until he can feel the feather-light whisper of Shiro’s breath like it’s a solid touch. Shiro’s hands smooth down Keith’s body, easing tension where they find it.

His knee presses between Keith’s again and Keith’s legs open just like before. Like he can’t even help himself. 

Shiro touches Keith everywhere, but especially down deep where Keith’s never been touched before – not by anyone other than himself, at least. 

The first touch shocks a strange, laughing, nervous noise out of Keith, but once he’s used to the feeling he soon finds himself holding back long moans. Shiro doesn’t enter him, not even a little just to tease, he just rubs and soothes and circles until Keith finds his hips moving with the motion of Shiro’s fingers. He doesn’t even realize he’s gritting his teeth until Shiro places a hot kiss to his jaw with a murmured request to “relax.” 

“Please, Shiro. I want you to fuck me.” It already feels like Keith’s going to fly apart, and he hasn’t even been stretched out yet.

“Sure thing, babe,” Shiro says with a kiss to Keith’s nose. 

He pulls away – which is _not_ what Keith was going for – leaving Keith feeling cold and awkward in the middle of the bed until he returns with a bottle of lube and a stack of condoms.

Keith takes the condoms and inspects them. He’s never actually seen a condom up close like this.

“We don’t really need these, do we?” he says holding them up between two fingers, “My body was made tonight, so you know it’s clean, and it’ll disappear by sunrise.”

Shiro’s eyes seem to gleam an eerie gold for a moment, and then they grow dark as coal. He smiles up at Keith and starts to touch at Keith’s entrance again, this time with slicked fingers. 

“Is that what you want, sweet thing? You want my cum inside you?”

“I… want the full experience.”

“Ok then, Sugar. We’ll give you the full experience.” He winks and the sight of it sends a shock of nervousness through Keith all over again.

Keith makes a show of nonchalance as he tosses the condoms away; it’s immediately undone by the raw, squealing noise he makes when one of Shiro’s fingers slips into him, testing the elasticity of his ass. Shiro gives him just to the first knuckle before pulling out. 

The stretch around Shiro’s big finger burns, but it makes Keith feel alive. It awakens a violent need deep inside and he cries out for more. Shiro gives him more, but it’s still not enough, so he keeps asking and asking until Shiro is three fingers deep and absolutely giving it to Keith. 

Keith is stretched along the bed, his hands gripping at the wooden posts of Shiro’s headboard, his heels digging into the bed. His hips work with and against Shiro’s hand, working Shiro deep inside. He doesn’t know what he’s saying, but he knows he’s begging: deeper, harder, _more_. 

Then Shiro moves. It happens so fast, Keith doesn’t quite register the movement; he blinks and then suddenly he’s on his hands and knees and pushing himself back into Shiro’s warmth. 

“Patience. You’re a wild thing, aren’t you?” A hot touch runs down Keith’s spine then rolls his ass between thick fingers. 

Keith lifts himself to his knees, his hands finding a new grip holding himself up on the headboard, so that he can turn and get a glimpse of Shiro.

Shiro’s on his knees too, cock in his hand and aiming directly between Keith’s split legs. He’s got a sharp look on his face – all heavy eyebrows and dark pupils. For the first time that night Keith feels warm in a way that has nothing to do with Shiro’s touch. 

Keith bites his lips at the view and cants his hips until he feels Shiro slide between his cheeks.

Shiro makes a happy noise from the back of his throat, “ohh, yes,” so Keith moves a little more, rubbing himself back against the incubus. Shiro’s hands fold around Keith’s cheeks and press them tight around his cock, fucking into the space. 

It’s a bit of an odd feeling to have one’s ass cheeks fucked. It’s not bad, exactly, but it doesn’t do much for Keith and he’s desperate to have that thick meat somewhere much deeper. 

“Shiro, please. Don’t tease me.”

“Ok, ok,” Shiro holds Keith’s hips with purpose and lines himself up. He holds himself just at Keith’s entrance and leans forward until he can bite at Keith’s ear. “But you’re so fun to tease.”

Keith opens his mouth to make a smart comment, but it turns into an ugly, raw, grunting noise as Shiro presses in and smoothly fucks Keith to the hilt. 

“Fuuuuck!” Keith groans. Shiro is so, so hot spearing him through like this. Every inch that Shiro touches feels on fire, and Keith is loving every minute of it. 

It hurts, but it hurts so good. Keith didn’t know he’s a glutton for punishment, but he knows it now because every part of this is perfect. The slide and the fullness are wonderful, and the edge of pain from the stretch just puts everything else into focus. It’s brilliant. And just like before, Keith is soon asking for “More, Shiro. Please. More.”

They quickly find a rhythm that had Keith grunting with every thrust. His arms shake from his tight grip on the headboard and the struggle to keep himself upright as Shiro lights him up from the inside out. 

Then Shiro’s hands start to traverse Keith’s body, and it’s all over. There’s nothing else in the universe but those warm hands and the solid cock destroying his ass. Shiro plays with Keith’s nipples, then wraps around his cock in a scorching embrace. It only takes a few strokes before Keith is completely overwhelmed. He surrenders violently to Shiro’s skills and splatters the bedding in white. 

“Hold on, baby,” Shiro murmurs in Keith’s ear. He drapes himself over Keith’s back, covering Keith in his body heat, and continues to thrust into him. “‘M almost there.”

The next few thrusts are more pain that pleasure, but then they feel better than ever and Keith moans weakly as Shiro bites his shoulder with a groan and fills him with hot cum.

Keith waits, panting for breath, until Shiro recollects himself and pulls out. The cold comes rushing in to fill the space of Shiro’s body and Keith can’t help but shiver.

“You ok?” Shiro asks.

“Peachy.” Keith’s grin is stupid – he can feel it. It stretches wide across his face and has too much teeth to be attractive, but Shiro gives it a fond look that just makes Keith want to giggle. He has nothing to giggle over, but he does it just the same. 

The next few minutes are possibly the best of the night. Shiro shifts some blankets to give Keith space and then topples onto the bed beside him. The blankets trap Shiro’s heat around him, and they just lie together in a comfortable silence until their hearts return to normal. 

It’s nice to lie together in the afterglow. It’s nice to feel the proof of their coupling dripping out of Keith slowly. He tries to fight it – partly out of respect for Shiro’s sheets and partly because he wants that reminder within him as long as this body will last.

Keith knows when Shiro’s ready for round two because he suddenly shifts onto his side and holds his head in his hand. There’s a brightness and energy in his eyes that say he’s good to go, but he doesn’t push. He just looks down at Keith with those fine eyes, taking in every detail of Keith’s face and body until Keith can feel his cheeks tingle with blush. 

Keith takes his time coming down. The post-orgasm high is something else – he’d say it’s like an out-of-body experience if that weren’t an everyday occurrence for him. This is something else. It’s an in-body experience. Deeply in-body. Keith feels in tune with every iota of his being in a way he doesn’t recall ever feeling while alive. It’s highly addictive. 

“What are you thinking?” Shiro asks. There’s a note of fondness in his voice that makes it seem like he already knows exactly what Keith’s thinking and finds it all amusing.

“I’m thinking I’m going to have to work my ass off for more energy if I want to do this again next year. Uh! I mean… if you’re willing, that is…”

Shiro’s soft chuckle cuts Keith short mid-panic. “I’m willing.”

He leans down and gives Keith another small kiss to the tip of his nose. 

That, apparently, is all it takes to get Keith going again. He smiles up at Shiro and then flings himself forward fast enough to topple Shiro over with a surprised laugh. Keith pushes Shiro down into the mattress and straddles his hips. It gives him a jolt of adrenaline to pin Shiro like this, to see that perfect body stretched out under him.

Shiro’s body is a feast for the eyes, and Keith can’t help but to want to touch him. Like a beautiful sculpture you need to touch to know it’s not real – except that Shiro is very, very real (as Keith’s ass can attest). 

Keith draws his fingers down Shiro’s chest, mesmerized by the view. He touches Shiro’s nipples and watches them turn small and pert within seconds. They turn so fast. It’s surprising, and something must show on Keith’s face because Shiro turns away with a faint blush and says “Your fingers are cold.”

Keith jerks to pull away, confidence ruined. “Is that bad?” he asks, though of _course_ it is! How can it not be? He’s cold because he’s fucking dead and on borrowed time from Samhain just to be here.

Shiro grabs Keith’s wrist and pulls it back to his chest. “It’s good. I like the cold.” 

“Yeah?” Keith rubs Shiro’s nipples then draws down lower. He shifts and takes Shiro’s cock in both his hands and he’s rewarded with a flutter of long eyelashes, a full-body twist of pleasure, and a drawn-out moan. 

“Just like that,” Shiro says, biting his lip and thrusting up into Keith’s grip.

Keith could come again just watching Shiro move. He’s like a cat: graceful and languid. He’s so handsome, and the faces he makes when Keith does something good are worth all the soul energy Keith could ever gather. Even his moans are gorgeous, sounding light and musical.

It’s a real shame Keith couldn’t watch Shiro come undone before, but that just means he’ll have to do his best to please Shiro now and get his eyeful. 

Keith drags a cool finger down along the seam of Shiro’s balls and along the smooth skin of his taint. He follows Shiro’s guidance; his low moans punctuated with “right there,” and “that’s it, Keith. Just like that.” 

Keith can feel his nerves start to rise as his fingers search lower and start to circle at Shiro’s hole the same way Shiro did to him earlier. 

“Sh-should I…” Keith has to swallow a few times, his mouth is so dry, before he can continue. “s-stretch you?”

“I’d like that.” 

Shiro’s eyes flash gold for a moment again, and Keith is starting to associate the flash of colour with excitement. He teases the tip of a finger into Shiro and immediately understands. The incubus doesn’t need any stretching – but the extravagant moan he makes at the fleeting touch proves how deeply he enjoys it. That works for Keith!

Keith teases Shiro with almost cruel intensity, watching Shiro’s face for signs of extreme pleasure and pulling back a little each time to keep Shiro right on the edge. It’s several minutes before Keith even gets one full finger into Shiro, he’s too busy playing with Shiro’s rim and teasing him with the possibility of more. 

The amazing part is that Shiro doesn’t seem to anticipate it – not fully. Each time Keith seems to give him what he wants only to pull back at the last moment Shiro’s face flushes with surprise and excitement. 

Keith works Shiro up to three fingers with excruciating slowness. He finds Shiro’s prostate quickly, and then does his best to skirt it, rubbing against it only rarely and still focusing on playing with Shiro’s rim. It seems no matter how thick Keith stretches him, Shiro opens easily but stays just as tight as ever. It’s an amazing power, and Keith wishes he had time enough to fully enjoy it. 

As it is, Keith just keeps playing and playing with Shiro, never growing tired of the roll of Shiro’s eyes back in his head when Keith finds the right spot or the wanton way he moans. 

All the while, Keith’s erection strains between his legs. He’s so turned on by Shiro, and it feels like it’s been ages since he’s been touched. At long last, Keith finally nudges Shiro’s legs apart and lines himself up.

He presses in agonizingly slow. This time it’s not for Shiro’s enjoyment; it’s a necessity, or else Keith is going to blow his load at the first thrust.

Shiro is so incredibly _hot_ inside! He’s boiling. Burning. Broiling. He’s tight and he surges around Keith like he’s trying to pull Keith deep inside. It’s absolute bliss.

Keith has to curl his hands into fists on either side of Shiro, close his eyes, and grit his teeth to keep from coming on the spot. Once he’s fully sheathed, he has to stop again and take several deep breaths before he can even think about moving.

“‘S’it good?” Shiro asks with a hint of a smirk.

“_Fuck_, Shiro!” Keith laughs and then whimpers as the movement forces him a little deeper into that wet heat. He makes a feral noise, closes his eyes, and pulls out quickly only to slam back in. 

The motion makes them both groan. Keith takes another breath then does it again, then again, and again until he slowly works himself into a rhythm he can sustain. 

It only feels better the farther and faster he goes. There’s no reprieve from the encompassing pleasure. His ass still feels the echo of Shiro’s cock from earlier that night and here he is, cock-deep in Shiro and struggling to keep his head. 

Gradually, Keith acclimatizes and learns to ride out the pleasure without letting it overflow. His hands relax on the bed and he’s able to focus more on Shiro again. He wants so desperately to be good for Shiro. Not just because Shiro will be more likely to take him back next year if he’s good, but because Shiro has treated him so well, already giving almost all of his night to Keith when it should be the busiest night of Shiro’s year. 

And it doesn’t hurt that every time Shiro moans and his head lolls to the side with a murmured praise of Keith’s skills Keith’s confidence gets a monumental boost. 

“Good. That’s so good, sweetheart,” Shiro says when Keith’s hands return to Shiro’s chest and he starts to play with a nipple. Keith glows at the praise. It makes Keith want to do even better.

Keith has a general idea where Shiro’s prostate is, but from this angle he doesn’t seem to be able to hit it. He needs more leverage. He needs…

Keith lifts Shiro’s legs and pins them down to Shiro’s chest. He holds them there with hands to the back of Shiro’s knees, using Shiro to hold himself up as he pushes him down. It changes the angle perfectly, and after a small shift of his hips, Keith hits Shiro dead-on.

He knows he’s got him because Shiro’s eyes roll back so hard Keith can only see the whites of his eyes, and he absolutely shouts with pleasure. 

“You like that?” Keith asks, looking cheeky. 

Shiro doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even seem to have heard it, and if that isn’t an ego boost, nothing is. 

Keith redoubles his efforts, fucking into Shiro smooth and steady. He’s rewarded with moans and curses. Shiro starts to squeeze Keith so tight it feels like he’s trying to steal Keith’s dick and keep it for himself. 

Keith fucks faster. 

Sweat pours down his face and along his back. He pants for breath. His legs start to feel raw and weirdly thick from the workout of his unused muscles. His mouth is dry and he feels desperate for water, but he can’t stop. He won’t stop. There’s nothing else in existence but fucking into Shiro as good as he can. 

He fucks harder.

There’s no telling who comes first, or even how long it lasts. Keith is nothing but a single neuron, firing with pleasure. 

And then he is a young man once again, tucked into blankets and feeling warm with Shiro’s arm as his pillow. 

“So…” Shiro says, turning to nestle into Keith’s hair, “next year, huh?”

“Yeah. Next year.”

“I’ll pick you up at your cemetery. Sundown?”

“Sundown,” Keith confirms.

Not long after, they fall asleep in each others’ arms.

At sunrise, Keith’s earthly body dissolves and his spirit is ferried back to his resting place where he waits with all the patience that he has for next Halloween.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I finished this! This fic has given me grief for weeks and I was so sure it wasn't getting done tonight. i have about 22 minutes left to the 31st where I am right now as I type this so I'm in JUST under the wire! whew!
> 
> Don't worry about Keith doing his unfinished business and crossing over because now he's got new unfinished business: he's got to fuck Shiro every way imaginable before he can move on! 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for going on this wild ride of a month with me! I am going to start going back over the days i missed and trying to fill them in, so this isn't the last you've seen of me, but it won't be daily updates because I have nothing else started. I'm hoping to have all the rest done by the end of November so i can go on hiatus and work on this long-ass Shunkeith fic I've been working on for over a year. 
> 
> I love you all for your comments and kudos! And you can follow me if you like!  
Twitter: [@WTuesdays](https://twitter.com/WTuesdays)  
Tumblr: [WatermelonTuesdays](https://watermelontuesdays.tumblr.com/)


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